


Six pounds and ten ounces

by anotherthief



Category: Suits (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-16
Updated: 2014-10-16
Packaged: 2018-02-21 08:37:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2461838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anotherthief/pseuds/anotherthief
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harvey and Donna the day their daughter is born.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Six pounds and ten ounces

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted 9/13/12 on my LiveJournal.

“I hope you’re ready for this because there’s no turning back now.” Donna says softly, her finger tracing the tiniest, pinkest cheek he’s ever seen.  
  
Harvey shifts, trying to keep from falling off the five inches of hospital bed that have been allotted for him to sit on. A combination of one foot on the floor and his arm around Donna’s shoulders keeps him grounded.  
  
In the crook of Donna’s elbow, 6 lbs 10 oz and 19 inches is sleeping soundly. He sees his daughter like this at first, in pieces and numbers, so much to take in for something so small. The pink hat on her head is too big and Harvey can see under to the hint of red hair underneath. Ten fingers and ten toes are accounted for, those he knew to look for. But no one told him babies don’t come with eyelashes – that he found out on his own. Donna had laughed at how seriously he had asked the question, and reassured him they would come later, pointing out the barely there beginnings, almost too fine to see.  
  
  


  
There was so much he didn’t know. Harvey was never a kid person. They don’t have portfolios and while they could be bribed, they couldn’t be charmed. Kids’ radar for bullshit is too well tuned. Having kids of his own… he had always thought maybe, one day, if only so his dad would have a grandchild to spoil. But after his dad died, any thoughts of 6 lbs 10 oz faded, that is until the plus sign came up on the plastic stick.  
  
 _“We don’t have to do this.” She said, watching him with far more seriousness and intensity than he had ever seen before.  
  
He had looked at her and looked at the stick, and for a split second thought about it. But he could hear the word she left out –_ together _, we don’t have to do this together – and that was an idea far scarier than staying._  
  
His hand found hers and squeezed. “Yes, we do.” And he had smiled, even though he was terrified, but she smiled back and he exhaled.  
  
  


  
The hospital room is small, and feels even smaller thanks to the overflow of flowers and balloons. Harvey pinches the bridge of his nose. He’s tired but there’s a bear from Louis taking up half the couch. Their daughter made her grand entrance at 4 am, and the stream of visitors started around 7. Now it’s late afternoon and they still haven’t slept. But looking at the contentment in Donna’s face, he wouldn’t have guessed it.  
  
“So long as your father doesn’t take matters into his own hands, you’re stuck with me.” He murmurs, and adjusts his daughter’s hat, only for it to fall back again immediately after.  
  
Donna laughs. “You knocked up his only daughter without a ring on her finger.” She pauses, and seems to contemplate Harvey’s pained expression. “He’ll get over it, eventually.”  
  
He raises an eyebrow, skeptical. “When? When she’s in college?”  
  
“If you’re lucky.” She teases and gives him  _that_  look, the one that says  _don’t even think about it, mister._  
  
Her father had already started hedging the matter again today when they were out picking up lunch. Harvey didn’t know how to explain to him that he wasn’t the one opposed to rings or ceremonies, so he dodged and played dumb. Officially moving in together was the only battle he had won; he would have to let her come to the rest if he wanted her to stay.  
  
“Can I hold her?” he asks softly, almost not loud enough for Donna to hear, except that it’s Donna, so of course she does. She shifts, and he stands so he can take her from Donna more gently, trying not to wake her up, but her eyes slide open and gaze at him unfocusedly. Since he’s standing he sways, just a little, until her eyes slip closed once more.  
  
When he looks back at Donna, she has this expression on her face that’s caught somewhere between laughing and crying.  
  
“What?” His eyebrows furrow, concerned that he’s doing something wrong.  
  
She shakes her head, and smiles. “Nothing, nothing. You just – you look like a dad, Harvey.”  
  
The corners of his mouth curve as emotions bubble to the surface. “Oh,” is all he says, for once left speechless.  
  
Donna reaches out and puts her hand on his forearm. “Yeah.” She nods, and for the first time in months, Harvey knows everything will be okay.


End file.
